The Heirs · Chat

When the wave broke, water rushed into his ears. That muffled sound—it was as if the entire world had been pushed into deep water, leaving only his heartbeat and the sound of bubbles rushing upward. Kim Tan emerged from the wall of waves, shaking his head and sending a spray of water droplets flying. He gasped for air, the sea surface bleached white by the sunlight, making him squint. The surfboard was still securely strapped to his ankle. He kicked the water a couple of times, floating on the undulating sea, his chest heaving heavily. Jay was waving at him from the shore, shouting something, but the wind was too strong to hear. Kim Tan saw Jay holding up a phone, pointing to the screen—a call. He didn't paddle back right away. He just floated on the water, drifting for a while. His body swayed gently as the waves pushed him; his toes couldn't touch the bottom, making him feel suspended in mid-air by the sea. He looked down at his hands—his knuckles were pale from being soaked, and there were a few red marks on his palms where the edge of the surfboard had dug in. His movements paddling back to shore weren't fast, and with every step on the sand, he sank a little. Jay had already handed him the phone. The screen displayed an unsaved Korean number. The vibration buzzed clearly in the air. By the time Kim Tan took it, the ringing had stopped. But he didn't put the phone down, because there was still an unread message on the screen, sent while he was surfing. He tapped to open it. The text on the screen wasn't long. After reading it, his fingers paused for a moment. Jay, standing beside him, asked what was wrong and who had called. Kim Tan didn't say anything. He rubbed his thumb back and forth along the edge of the screen a couple of times, then flipped the phone over, face down on his knee, staring at the sun-bleached water ahead. He remembered some things. He remembered the airport. He remembered what his brother had said to him standing in front of the boarding gate, his tone flat, as if giving a routine work assignment: 'If you're here, I can't do my work in peace.' At the time, he hadn't thought much of it, only thinking his brother disliked him and found him annoying. Now, those words resurfaced, and he suddenly understood another layer of meaning—it wasn't 'don't bother me,' it was 'don't show up in front of me.' Kim Tan let out a small laugh. The corners of his mouth tugged upward, but there was no warmth in his eyes. He looked down at his toes sinking into the wet sand. The tide rushed up, smoothing over the footprint, and then receded, as if nothing had ever happened. He flipped the surfboard over, laid it flat on the sand, pressed the edge of the board with his palm, and said nothing more. Jay stood beside him for a moment. Receiving no answer, he turned and went back to the car. The sound of the car door closing echoed with a dull thud in the sea breeze. Kim Tan sat there alone, the phone face down beside his leg, its screen no longer lit. Out on the distant sea, the wave he had just surfed had long since shattered on the water, leaving not even a shadow behind. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>